The Cracked Cauldron

Warnings: Sex swapping (NOT gender swapping!), Dysphoria, Vulgar Language, Smut, Blood

Author's Note: So I read a fic several years ago with this premise. It was abandoned. So I took the idea and went with it to (hopefully) see it through to completion, adding my own spin to it of course. I don't recall the original title or author, and if this rings a bell for anyone please let me know.

I do not own Harry Potter or other trademarked names or locations. They are property of Bloomsbury Books, Warner Bros., etc. Please support the original content.

Summary: Neville's lack of skill in potions causes Harry's world to turn upside down. Eighth year. Drarry.

((A/N: I'm back!! But my beta had to quit for mental health reasons, so this fic is now un-beta'd! If you spot any mistakes, please let me know!!))

Harry had almost forgotten what it was like, being harassed by Draco Malfoy. After their conversation Thursday evening, he spent Friday followed by the Slytherin, who would loudly tell anyone who so much as looked at Harry twice to "back off, he's mine!" When Harry sat alone for meals at the Gryffindor table, Draco made a show of sitting between Ron and Hermione, engaging them and the rest of the Gryffindors in conversation and leaning over the table to loudly invite him to join them.

"Potter, you simply must hear about this! Weasley over here was just telling us about Longbottom tripping over his own feet trying to leave your common room! Look, his nose is all bruised from the fall!" His outburst was followed by good-natured teasing from the Gryffindors; even Neville seemed to enjoy the teasing.

Harry did his best to ignore them. Draco would surely tire of it before the day was through, right? But Saturday brought more of the same. Harry tried to get away from it all by going out for a ride on his broomstick, but Draco followed him. Harry's Firebolt had easily outflown Draco's Nimbus 2001 in every Quidditch match they'd ever had, but no matter how hard he tried to fly away from the other boy, he'd be there, flying just behind him and making loud comments about his form. When he tried to tell Draco off, remarking about the fact that he never flew this fast during a game, when it mattered, Draco responded by telling him he'd never wanted to catch a Snitch as badly as he wanted to catch Harry. It wasn't long before the fun of flying had dried up and Harry stormed back to the castle without changing back into his uniform. Harry got a few hours' peace after, with Draco nowhere in sight, only for it to be shattered by Draco reappearing with the Gryffindors at dinner. Strangely, he was more subdued then, his face pale and eyes shuttered.

Harry tried to pretend not to care as he overheard Hermione asking him why. He tried to convince himself to not be upset by Draco's unconvincing response.

"It's just the cold, thank you Granger. I've been out flying behind the most fit bloke here all afternoon. A hot cup of tea should be just the thing."

"Draco, that was hours ago. Are you feeling ill?" Hermione pressed, reaching for his arm. The blond flinched away and shook his head with a laugh. Harry quickly turned back to his plate when Ron caught him staring.

After dinner, he went down to Hagrid's hut with Luna, only to find Draco already there sipping brandy with the half-giant and discussing Thestrals.

"'Arry!" Hagrid boomed, his speech more slurred than usual. "Come, come in! Malfoy 'ere was jus' tellin' me summat abou' yer! 'E was goin' on abou' the two of yer havin' a spat? And righ' before Valentine's too..."

Harry was about to turn on his heel and leave, but Draco placed his snifter aside and thanked Hagrid for his hospitality. As he left, Harry could have sworn he saw Luna and Draco nod to one another – but that was impossible, as Luna was his only friend left who still didn't like Draco.

Hagrid poured the both of them a generous helping of brandy as they sat beside the fire. "Now 'Arry, it's not that I'm not pleased ter see yeh more often with Malfoy not usin' up yer time, but yeh can't just throw 'im aside fer a foolish mistake like this. Yeh've forgiven me fer worse and we all know it."

Luna was conspicuously silent as Harry sipped his brandy. Whatever Hagrid was drinking seemed to be very strong, Harry became light-headed the moment the drink went down his throat. Harry tried to explain that his issue with Draco was more complicated than a mere slip of the tongue, but the words couldn't come out of his mouth properly. The last thing he heard before falling asleep on the floor of the hut was Luna offering him a soft apology.

He slept through breakfast on Sunday, and it was nearly noon when he finally awoke in his own dormitory. The other beds were empty, and the Gryffindor common room was deserted as well. He didn't come across another soul until he climbed out of the portrait hole, where a first year girl was waiting with a single red rose.

"H-Harry… this is for you," she stammered, handing him the flower. He raised his eyebrows. "Happy Valentine's day!" she squeaked before running past him back into Gryffindor tower.

He should have guessed that he would get attention from admirers today. It was Valentine's Day, after all, and while he had been left alone by fans so far this year due to Draco's presence by his side, he was alone now and therefore subject to them once again.

What he hadn't guessed was just how many there would be. At least twenty people stopped him in the hallway on his way to lunch, each offering him an identical red rose. All he wanted was to find Luna and ask her what had happened at Hagrid's last night, why he had passed out like he had, but around every corner was another student with another rose. The strangest thing was that it wasn't all girls either. A sixth year Hufflepuff boy who was about half a foot taller than him and twice as wide shoved a flower into his hand and muttered "Happy Valentine's Day," before he strode purposefully away, looking annoyed. Harry entered the Great Hall with what was shaping up to be a handsome bouquet in his hands. Luna was sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table, twirling yet another red rose between her fingers. When he approached her, she offered it to him with a dreamy smile.

"Your admirer really has outdone himself today," she said airily once he sat beside her.

"These are all from Malfoy?" He asked, nearly throwing the flowers onto the table. "I should have guessed, ugh. I'm not taking another one."

"That's your choice, of course. I wouldn't do that, though." She shrugged.

"What? Why not?"

"Knowing Draco, they're probably charmed to do something annoying if you refuse."

"You reckon they're jinxed?" He eyed the roses warily.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. If he ever caused you pain again he'd never forgive himself."

Suspicion twisted in his gut. "Luna, have you spoken to Draco about this?"

"No more than anyone else he have a rose to give you, I expect. The pea soup is lovely, you should try it."

At the mention of food, Harry was reminded of why it was he wanted to speak to Luna in the first place. "Luna, was there something funny about the drink I had at Hagrid's last night?"

Luna shrugged. "It was very strong elf-made brandy, meant to relax the drinker. I know that Madame Maxine had bought it for Hagrid as a gift at Christmas. He told me as much when I visited him last. Perhaps if you'd been sleeping more, it wouldn't have knocked you out."

Just a stiff drink? Harry had trouble believing that. "It didn't have any potion in it?" he asked, frowning.

Luna raised her eyebrows in alarm. "Harry James Potter, do you honestly think I would condone drugging you against your will?"

"But I remember, you apologized! Right before I passed out!"

Luna blushed at this, sighing. "I knew it might make you sleep, with the state you've put yourself in… and I didn't stop you drinking it. I thought you'd feel better after a good night of sleep. I didn't think you'd fall asleep immediately, however."

Harry couldn't begrudge her that. "Well, at least I got some rest out of it, I suppose," he grumbled.

The moment his conversation with Luna hit a lull several Ravenclaw girls approached him at once, offered him a red rose each, and wished him a happy Valentine's Day. The group dispersed in a fit of giggles as Harry glared at the new flowers in his grip. Come to think of it, this stunt had 'Draco Malfoy' written all over it, and he was surprised he hadn't realized it sooner. After lunch, he headed straight back to Gryffindor Tower with every intention of holing himself up for the rest of the day, only to find a few dozen students waiting for him there, roses in hand.

"I don't want the bloody flowers!" He snapped. The moment he did so, the flowers flew from their hands and began floating around him, singing in harmony.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard,

This break up's a farce

I miss his daft arse,

The git who defeated the Dark Lord!"

If Harry hadn't been so livid, he'd have laughed. He deftly snatched the flowers out of the air and stormed into the common room, tossing the lot into the fireplace to burn. He threw himself into an overstuffed armchair with a huff and watched the roses turn to ash. There had to be over thirty in there. He comforted himself with the knowledge that he'd probably seen the last of them. Their perfume was spread through the common room with the heat from the flames, making everything smell like them. Harry reckoned this was probably Draco's doing as well; flowers typically didn't let off a fresh scent as they burned, did they? The smell made Harry's head swim a bit, so he retreated to his dormitory to change and grab his invisibility cloak, hoping to find another hiding spot.

When he opened the door to his room, he thought for a moment someone had replaced his four-poster with an actual rosebush. What looked like a hundred or so roses were attached to his curtains and his bed posts, and petals were scattered over his blanket. He drew his wand and went to work Vanishing the lot of them. Each bloom disappeared with a shower of pink sparks and left behind a fresh burst of rose scent. When he had cleared away the last of them, he noticed a piece of pink parchment on his nightstand, beside the note Narcissa Malfoy had sent him on Thursday. He frowned and picked it up to read.

"Harry,

Happy Valentine's Day, love! I was going to shower you with love and attention in private today, but I had to go and ruin our relationship so I figured I'd do it this way! What do I have to lose when I've already lost you, right?

The flowers are charmed to sing when refused (a song I parodied from another Valentine's Day years ago, if you'll recall) and let off more scent when destroyed. They're also charmed to bite any other suitors meaning to give you unwanted gifts – hopefully you haven't destroyed all of them by the time you read this! If you do nothing and accept them as they're intended, all but a dozen will disappear at midnight tonight. If you truly don't want me anymore, they'll disappear the moment you or your magic touches them and bother me instead (a clever little charm Granger cast just in case, you can thank her later.) However, if I'm right about your feelings for me, and I know I am, you've been carrying flowers around all day. Haven't you?

If these have been a thorn in your side today (ha!) I apologise for troubling you. I won't bother you in person today, as an extra Valentine's gift, but I look forward to seeing your face in class tomorrow.

All my love,

D. Malfoy"

Underneath the note, in a different color ink, was a hastily scrawled postscript.

"Mother has invited you to the Manor?? Sorry, saw her handwriting on your nightstand and curiosity got the best of me. Love you so much xo"

Harry felt his face go hot with ire. Forgoing a change in clothes, he retrieved his invisibility cloak from his trunk and left the tower. So what if the stupid flowers didn't disappear? He just needed time to get over Draco, that was all. His heart clenched at the thought but he reminded himself of how betrayed he felt only two weeks prior when he thought Draco had purposefully betrayed his trust and how easily he had believed he'd been fooled. He couldn't love someone he didn't trust. He just couldn't.

A small voice inside insisted that he did anyway.

He skipped his classes the next day and instead went to visit Narcissa at Malfoy Manor. He firstly didn't want Draco to have the satisfaction of seeing him right after his little stunt, still reeking of roses and annoyed. Secondly, though the note Narcissa had sent had requested his presence at his "earliest possible convenience" he was sure she wasn't expecting him so soon, and therefore he'd have the upper hand in whatever discussion she wished to have with him.

In that, he was sorely disappointed. The House-elf that greeted him at the door informed him that her mistress was expecting him in her private tea room, and instructed him to follow her immediately.

Harry had dressed as sharply as he could for the occasion, his long hair pulled back in a loose braid with his ribbon from Ginny and his black robes finely tailored to fit perfectly without accentuating his chest, but he still felt shabby in comparison to Draco's ancestral home. The place had undergone what looked like extensive renovation since he'd been there last Easter. The dark decor had been replaced with ivory walls and white marble floors. Everything that had been dark wood had been covered in gleaming gold. He was reminded of his discussion with Dumbledore when he had died, surrounded as he was then with white light.

He was lead to a sunny room on the second floor with emerald walls covered in pictures of Draco in his childhood. There sat Narcissa Malfoy at a delicate wooden table, a tea setting for two laid out before her. The elf promptly stopped at the doorway and bowed to Harry before disappearing with a crack.

"Ah, Harry dear. Do come in. It's wonderful to see you." She said, rising to greet him. She looked wary as he stepped over the threshold, but visibly relaxed as he took the only other seat at the table.

"We shan't be disturbed in here. This parlor is exclusively for a Malfoy's betrothed or spouse."

"And invited guests, it would seem." Harry replied.

Narcissa didn't respond right away; she instead poured two servings of tea and offered Harry a cup. Harry helped himself to sugar and tentatively took a sip. It was earl gray, his favorite. He waited patiently for Narcissa to speak.

"I understand that you have recently had a falling out with my son." She spoke calmly and quietly. When he merely nodded in response, she continued. "I'm sure you are perfectly aware of how highly I value Draco, and how important his happiness is to me, and I wish to resolve the confrontation between the two of you so he can be happy again."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "With all due respect, Mrs. Malfoy," he said coldly, "Draco surrendered the privilege of my concern with his happiness the night he chose to –"

"I am perfectly aware of the situation surrounding your quarrel. And, please, do call me Narcissa. I am also aware that you have no real intention of being away from my son forever, and I wish to know how he can expedite the process of earning your favor once more."

"And who says that I'm not though with him?" Harry snapped, setting his teacup aside.

Narcissa blinked. "Why you, of course. By being in this room. I already told you it is exclusively for the use of a Malfoy's spouse or betrothed."

Harry gaped at her, and she continued. "It is the responsibility of the Malfoy matriarch to arrange the marriage of the heir. This room was jinxed centuries ago when the first wife of Caligulus Malfoy grew suspicious of her sister, who became the second wife. She was a sickly woman, and couldn't bear a child. She believed that her husband meant to annul their marriage in favor for her younger, healthier sister. She made it so that this room, her tea room, had no air to breathe for anyone not married or betrothed to a Malfoy. If Caligulus had made her sister an offer, and the match was advantageous to both, the sister would breathe with no trouble. If not, she would choke upon entry. The sisters both breathed easily within the room – one already married to a Malfoy, the other betrothed to the same man. The first wife holed herself up in this room until the marriage was annulled, when she chose to suffocate inside rather than face life without her husband.

"Ever since, the room has been used as a test to all prospective Malfoy spouses. Any person looking to marry a Malfoy with untoward intentions, any who sees their affair with the heir as a passing fancy, anyone who would bring shame or dishonor upon this house, all choke upon entry and must leave immediately or perish.

"You have had no trouble breathing in here, which means three things. First, it means, whether to yourself or to someone else, Draco has stated his intention to marry you. Second, it means that the match is advantageous; unsurprising, you're a wealthy war hero and your reputation could only improve our family's social standing. Third, and most importantly for our purposes here today, it means you are amenable to such a union."

All of the blood had drained from Harry's face. "You could have killed me!" he gasped.

"Nonsense dear, I would have taken you to another room before you could so much as cough, and we'd be discussing how best to get Draco to accept that it's over between the two of you. However, that is clearly not necessary. So how are we to rebuild your relationship and secure my son's happiness?" She took a delicate sip of tea and looked at him expectantly.

Harry was reeling. The traitorous voice of his heart told him that she was right, but the stubborn voice in his mind wouldn't have it.

It's Malfoy. His mother is probably a liar like him. There probably isn't any magic in this room at all –

Harry knew that was untrue. He could feel the jinx sleeping in the walls of the room. He noticed that there no flowers in the room, though the rest of the house had stunning arrangements on display, and that Narcissa – not a House-elf – did all of the serving. Plus, he owed Narcissa his life. If she wanted to force him to be with Draco she very likely could. He still had a choice. Sort of.

"I… I'm not sure. I feel like there are two Dracos – the obnoxious git he was for seven years, and then the kind, vulnerable, charming man he's been this year. I don't know what's real, if any of it is. He's been a nightmare the past few days as well." He told her what Draco had done the day before. "I'm just so unsure about everything I know about him." He shrugged.

Narcissa laughed with relief. "Is that all? Harry, darling, Draco is a kind, vulnerable, charming man who wanted for nothing at any point in his life – except when it came to you, of course. He has no idea how to accept no for an answer, and he loves to be the center of attention. Lucius and I didn't intend to raise him to be, as you say, obnoxious, but I'm afraid that's what we raised him to be. He will always want your attention and expect to be spoiled – but he will return the favor tenfold."

"MISTRESS!" a House-elf shrieked, scurrying to the tea room door. "Mistress must leave immediately! Oh woeful day! Master Draco is hurt!" The elf burst into sobs, wringing a letter in her fists. Both Harry and Narcissa rose at once, and it was Harry that reached the nearest fireplace first. Without thinking, he grabbed a fistful of floo powder and tossed it into the flames, shouting "Hogwarts Infirmary" a fraction of a second before stepping into the grate. When he arrived, Professors McGonagall and Slughorn were talking in hushed tones while Madame Pomfrey moved around quickly behind a curtain. Seconds later Narcissa followed him out of the fire and took his hand, dragging him over to McGonagall.

"What has happened to my son?" she asked, looking ready to murder.

"It appears Mr. Malfoy has been attacked, he was found in a lavatory covered in his own blood. There was no clue who the attacker could be. He is still quite fragile from blood loss, but he's stable. Madame Pomfrey is examining him now."

"An attack? He was supposed to be safe here. He promised it would be safe here." Narcissa hissed, tears forming in her eyes.

"I assure you, Narcissa," Slughorn chimed in, "We will find the attacker and see to it that they are punished to the fullest extent of the law."

Narcissa didn't look mollified. Harry felt numb. Why was he here? Surely he had no business staying. But his feet wouldn't move.

Once I know he's okay. I'll leave once I know, that's all.

"Mr. Potter, I'm sorry, but we can't have anyone but immediate family at this time–" McGonagall started, but Narcissa didn't let her finish.

"He's Draco's intended, he can stay."

The professor's eyebrows shot up. "I was under the impression that your relationship had ended —"

"Is now really the moment to discuss that?" Harry snapped. He would discuss whether or not he was anyone's intended later, right then he could focus only on what had happened to Draco.

"Of course not, you're absolutely right."

At that moment, Madame Pomfrey came out from behind the curtain, looking grave. "Young Mr. Malfoy was attacked, I'm afraid."

"How is that possible?" Slughorn demanded. "I saw the blood myself! That much blood couldn't be an accident!"

"It absolutely could if the injury were self-inflicted. His wrists were slit."

Narcissa's face was a mask of shock. Both McGonagall and Slughorn gasped. Harry felt his insides twist horribly.

This is my fault.

"I've given him a blood-replenishing potion, and I've mended the wounds, but he'll need to see a Mind Healer, as soon as he wakes up. He may very well need to stay at St. Mungo's, depending on—"

"I won't." said a feeble voice from behind the curtain. "I'll talk to a Healer, but I won't go."

Harry shoved past the mediwitch without thinking and stopped when he saw Draco lying in his hospital bed. His skin was deathly white, a stark contrast to the blood-stained sheets upon which he rested. His eyes were alert, but he had deep purple bags beneath them.

"Oh. I've died, I think. I don't think I deserve Heaven, but there's an angel here." He smiled weakly and winked at Harry.

"Shut up, you absolute bastard." Harry felt tears rolling down his face. "What have you done, Malfoy?"

"It wasn't on purpose, love. I only wanted to feel something else." he mumbled, shutting his eyes.

"Do you know how that sounds?! Draco, what if no one found you? You could have –"

"You were gone. I thought you'd left for good. Granger and Weasley didn't know where you went, no one did. I thought I pushed you too hard yesterday. None of the roses came back, but neither did you."

"What is he talking about? What roses?" McGonagall whispered behind him, only to be shushed by Narcissa.

"I went to see your mum, you idiot. She's here with me. We had tea… in her private parlor."

Draco's face crumpled and he burst into tears. Of course he knew what that implied. "She could have killed you." he moaned, covering his face with a shaking hand.

More sounds of distress came from behind Harry, but he paid no attention. Every doubt had left his mind. He knew exactly how he felt about the infuriating man crying in front of him. He closed the distance between them and gathered Draco into his arms.

"Impossible," he whispered as Draco cried onto his shoulder. "We're too good a match."

Draco only cried harder in response. Narcissa ran to his other side and gently ran a hand through his hair, murmuring words of comfort. Slowly, too slowly, the blond's tears subsided.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, resting his head in the crook of Harry's neck. "I'm sorry for all of it. I've made a mess of everything, haven't I?"

"We'll fix it," Narcissa assured him. "You will recover, and we will fix everything that was broken. Together. Isn't that right, Harry?"

Harry shut his eyes and listened for any remaining doubts. There was nothing in his consciousness but overwhelming worry for the man in his arms. It probably wasn't the ideal moment to realize he was in love, but nothing in his life had happened at the ideal moment thus far.

"Everything together, from now on Draco. I promise. I'm done doubting you. I will accept everything you are, I'm never letting you go again."

Draco snivelled. "Does this mean we're boyfriend's again?" he asked meekly, pulling away to look Harry in the face.

"Well, your mum seems to think we're getting married, but I'd rather be boyfriends a while first, if that's all right." He offered Draco a weak smile, and in return received a grin to rival the sun.

"Oh, Merlin, I have died, haven't I?" Harry laughed and shut him up with a kiss.